


The Only Exception

by Lightning_Blue93



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (Ex)Hooker!Dean, Friends to Lovers, Homosexual!Dean, M/M, Priest!Cas, bisexual!castiel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:21:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23368378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightning_Blue93/pseuds/Lightning_Blue93
Summary: For years Deans life was always the same. Word, Study, Fuck.But now that he actually has his degree he's free to do what he wants.The only Problem: He has no idea what that might be. But maybe this weird priest can help or at least guide him. The priest with the most beautiful eyes he has ever seen.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester (background)
Kudos: 2





	The Only Exception

**Author's Note:**

> [The Only Exception](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-J7J_IWUhls)  
>    
>  Inspiration for work title.  
>    
>  [Youth](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2QT5eGHCJdE)  
>    
>  Inspiration for Chapter title.
> 
> This began as a One-Shot trope, but I always wanted to write a longer piece with this character constellation.  
>  More Tags will be added once I figured out where this is going to go.  
>  Maybe the rating also changes, who knows, I'm always down for a little smut ;)

“Forgive me father, for I have sinned. My last confession has been -“ jeez, has he ever been to confession before? Not that he could remember.  
“— has been...a few days. So this might take a while.”  
  
“It's okay, son. You're here now. Please go on.”  
  
“Okay, let's see. I've had premarital sex. Lots of it. Lots and lots of it. To be fair I earn my living with it. Or earned. I had my last client a week ago and if everything goes as planned, he stays the last one. So yeah, there's another sin. Sodomy. But, to fair, if the Bible says sex is considered to be between a man and a woman, sex between two guys doesn't count as sex and, therefore, isn't a sin, or is it?” he made a short pause and could've sworn he heard a muffled chuckle from the other side of the confession booth.  
  
“Now I finally have my degree, psychology, so I don't need the extra money anymore. But, to be honest, I kinda miss it. It wasn't _just_ about the money. I actually enjoyed it. A lot.” he paused again. He hadn't told that anyone. Not even Sam. He knew how Dean earned his money for College, but always thought it was like torture for him.  
  
“Then why did you stop?” the voice on the other side of the booth asked.  
  
“Why did I -” He actually didn't know what to say.  
  
“That's a weird question coming from someone, who should chastise me for what I did.”  
  
“The real question is: You are supposed to ask for forgiveness for the sins you are confessing. Which requires regret. But I do not get the impression you are actually regretting what you did. So why are you here?” the priest asked calmly.  
  
“I... Actually I don't even really know. I guess I'm just kind of...lost? For the past 5 years every week was the same. Days in the garage, evenings at school, weekends, well, my other job. But now everything's different. I don't have school anymore and I have this amazing offer from a health clinic to work there as a counselor. I guess I'm just afraid.” his voice almost broke at the last word.  
  
“What are you afraid of?”  
  
Dean heard a faint shuffling, the priest must've moved to a more comfortable position, realizing this might take a while longer.  
  
“Of change I guess. My life has always pretty much been the same. I never let myself dream too big, always thinking life finds a way to ruin everything. So now that I actually got what I always wanted — I don't know what to do with it. I'm almost 40, not married, no kids, only my kid-brother, who's not a kid anymore, he's 35 actually. But he has his life. Wife, two kids, picket fence, big shot lawyer, everything he ever wanted. And I never doubted him, never doubted he could do all that. So why can't I, for once, believe in myself?” Dean sighed and fell silent.  
  
“God works in mysterious ways. Sometimes he hands you your accomplishments on a silver platter, and sometimes you have to work or even fight for it. It seems to me that your brother was lucky and had an easier path in front of him. Yours was a little harder, but, and you have to look at the big picture here, you both got what you wanted in the end. He is a lawyer and has a family, you got your degree.” he paused for a moment.  
  
“Or is it not the professional part that's troubling you, but the personal one. Are you sad you don't have a family?" he asked cautiously.  
  
Dean contemplated for a moment. He had never really thought about that. With his little side-hustle a relationship was pretty much out of question. Who wants to be with a hooker after all. But now? Did he really want that? A family, a white picket fence, the whole ordeal? His high school relationship with Aaron wasn't really one to be proud of and it ended bad. Like really bad.  
  
“I don't know. I never really thought about that. Wasn't actually easy being with someone when you're fucking for money on the weekends.” he sighed again.  
“It just never occurred to me, that his might be an option, someday…”  
  
“I have another question for you. Well, two, actually. The first: what's the sin you're asking absolution for and the second...” he paused for a moment, considered if he should really ask this at all.  
“My second question is: why don't we discuss this further over a cup of coffee. You seem to me like you could use some guidance, but that's rather difficult in this kind of setting, because I'm sure we would need to meet more often and I'm not the only priest doing confessions.” he fell silent again for a moment.  
“Only if you're comfortable with that, of course.”  
  
Dean didn't answer right away. Would he be comfortable? It was one thing telling all this under the guise of anonymity and professional discretion, but actually facing someone and talking about that? That seemed a little weird.  
  
“Okay, sure.” Wait, what did he just say?  
  
“Well, that's one answer. But you still need to answer the other one. I don't feel comfortable leaving you without giving you absolution.”  
  
He thought about it. Hard. What did he want absolution from?  
  
“How about doubting myself and the plan God apparently has for me?” he rather asked than told.  
  
“Give thanks to the Lord for He is good.” was the Priest's answer.  
  
“His mercy endures forever.” How did he even know how to reply?  
  
“Your sins are forgiven. Go in peace.”  
  
“Praised be the Lord.”  
Dean signed the cross and mumbled an 'Amen' before finally getting up from his knees (which hurt like hell from kneeling that long) and brushed the curtain to the side for getting out of the confessional.  
He turned to the exit when he heard the door of the confessional open.  
  
“Wait! We still need to make an appointment for that coffee!” The priest called after him.  
  
Dean sighed. Yeah, he had actually agreed to that. He slowly turned around. And was baffled. That priest was hot. Like really hot. Sharp facial features with a 5 'o clock shadow, lightly tanned skin and, as far as it was noticeable under his priest robe, a really slim though fit figure, but the most fascinating feature were his eyes. He didn't think he had ever seen eyes that blue. How was it even legal to look this good? Sure, he wasn't exactly ugly either, though all those burgers during his adolescence now gave him quite the soft middle, but this was model-kind hot.  
  
He cleared his throat. “Yeah, sorry, totally forgot.” Or rather, he had hoped the priest had forgotten.  
  
“How about Saturday? Your weekends should be free now, shouldn't they?”  
  
Did he actually just wink at him? What kind of priest was that?  
  
“Uh, yeah, sure. Saturday would work.” Still, two days to find a reason not to go.  
  
“Three 'o clock? At the Starbucks down on Main?” he looked — excited?  
  
“Yeah, that'll work.”  
  
“Let me give you my number. If anything comes up, you can just give me a call. Or if you need someone to talk to. Here, gimme your phone.”  
  
Dean slid his hand into his pocket and took out his phone like he was on autopilot. He unlocked it and gave it to the priest. He took it, tapped a little on the screen and gave it back to Dean. 'Castiel' was the Name of the contact. No surname, no 'Father', just Castiel.  
  
“If there's anything I can help you with, give me a call. Unless I'm in mass, I'll always answer. But I need to go now. Confession time isn't up yet. See you on Saturday.” he said with a big smile on his face.  
  
“See you Saturday.” Dean said and turned around again to leave the church. He could feel the priests eyes on him until he walked through the doors of the church.  
  
After the dim lighting of the old church, the bright sunlight was hurting his eyes. He raised his hand as a shield against the sunlight and turned to the church's parking lot. As soon as he sat behind Baby's wheel he felt the usual calm, that only she can give him. He took a few deep breaths, breathing in the familiar scents of old leather, oil and dust. He turned the key and started the engine, smiling at the familiar roaring.  
  
A few minutes later he pulled into his parking spot in front of the small apartment building he lived in. His apartment wasn't much more than a bed, a closet, a small kitchen and the tiniest bathroom he had ever seen. But it was his own and rent was cheap. Which was quite important since most of the money he made was used for tuition. But maybe, just maybe, if he actually took the job at the clinic, he could move into something a little bigger. Maybe even his own small house, no neighbors above stomping, keeping him either awake or waking him up. But for now his tiny apartment was all he had.  
  
He hung his keys on the hook on the wall and his leather jacket on the hook at the door. Then he let himself fall onto his bed, his head buried in his pillow. That must've been the weirdest encounter he has ever had in a church. That priest was nothing like he imagined. Neither in his looks nor in his behavior. But should he really get that coffee with him? He was hot. Like chiseled hot. But he was also a priest. And that was a challenge he wasn't ready for. But could it really hurt to get some kind of guidance? He was a little lost right now. And since Bobby, the owner of the garage, didn't actually know how Dean got the money for college it's not like he could ask him. And Sam was busy with his own life. Two Toddlers plus a full time job d id n't really leave much spare time. And the little he did have he tended to spent with his wife. Maybe this wasn't actually that bad of an idea as he thought.  
He turned around, grabbed the book from his nightstand and read til his eyelids began to droop from tiredness.  
  
Work the next day was just working on autopilot, find the problem, fix it, next. His thoughts tended to slip back to that priest whenever Dean didn't have to concentrate. Was he like that with everyone in his congregation? Though, to be fair, Dean wasn't really part of his congregation. It was a mere coincident Dean chose that particular church today. Or was it? Maybe it was part of Gods plan for him that he went inside and decided to make his confession. And to this particular priest as well.  
  
His shift was over before it really began and Dean drove home, just stopping to get something to eat for take-away. Once he was back at his apartment he opened his laptop, the bowl with his Chow Mein in front of him and googled the church he went to. Apparently the priest wasn't from around here, but moved here 2 years ago right after he graduated from priest school. So a late bloomer so to speak. What made him chose this path so late in life? He had to be around his own age, maybe a few years older. He should ask him over that coffee.  
  
After he finished his dinner he closed his Laptop and slumped into his bed with his book in his hand. It was a well-read copy of some Vonnegut novel. He usually loved reading them and forgot everything around him while doing so, but tonight he couldn't really concentrate on the story. Those piercing blue eyes of the priest were floating through his mind. What was wrong with him? It wasn't like him to get distracted that easily from a pair of blue eyes and some nice ass. After all, he had seen his fair share of those. So what was different with this one? Was it the priest thing? The lure of the forbidden? He was always up for a little challenge, but this one seemed to be one he could only lose. So why even bother. Since he couldn't concentrate on his novel he decided to just go to sleep, despite the fact that it was only 9pm. He could use the sleep.  
  
The next day was pretty much similar to the one before, only this evening he had Spring rolls and googled the priest himself. His surname was Novak, and he was from Pontiac, Illinois. Other than that there wasn't much to be found about him, so either nothing really happened until now, or he knew how to keep a low profile on the Internet. Either way he wanted to know more about that guy, so it looked like he would actually grab that coffee with him tomorrow. Couldn't hurt, right? 

* * *

Dean was nervous. But why? It was just coffee. And it was not like he could expect anything out of the ordinary from this 'coffee-date'. His opposite was a priest after all. Any move Dean could try would be barking up the wrong tree. He should just go there, have a nice cup of coffee and listen to whatever this guy has to say.

He was a little early, as always. Dean hated to be late. Castiel wasn't there yet, so he stood at the end of the line to order his coffee and get them a table. The café was rather busy, but he guessed that was for the better. The background noise would make it easier not to be overheard. Not that there was anyone there Dean knew and would be interested in his private life, but one couldn't be careful enough.

When it was finally his turn Dean ordered a trenta pour over. He needed something to hold on to. After he got the almost ridiculously large cup he looked around the café for an empty table. But instead he saw Castiel waving him from a corner by the large windows. He must've come in while he was ordering.

He wasn't wearing his priest robe, obviously not, he wasn't 'on duty' or however they call it in church. Although he _was_ wearing a black dress shirt with that weird, stiff, white collar.

“Hello, Father.” Dean said a little formal while extending his hand.

“Hello...- you actually never gave me your name.” Castiel said with a spark in his eyes.

Dean felt his cheeks turn hot when he blushed.  
“Busted. Dean. My name is Dean. Dean Winchester.” he said as Castiel took his hand in a firm and warm handshake. Even his hands were beautiful. Long, slender fingers, almost made to play the piano. Or maybe he was an organist.

“Hello Dean. I'm glad you could make it. I wasn't too sure you'd actually show up, given your reaction in the church on Wednesday.” Castiel sat down again, so Dean took the chair opposite him.

“To be fair, I wasn't sure if I would show up either. I had though long and hard about whether I'd come here, but I guess curiosity got the best of me.” Dean said and took a sip of his coffee, which was still way too hot to drink.

“Curiosity about what exactly?” Castiel asked him.

Dean could feel he was blushing again. What was wrong with him?  
“Well, I googled you. Or rather I googled your church which subsequently lead to a search about you. It's just: There's not much to find. I know you moved here 2 years ago from Illinois, after you graduated priest school, but given you're not in your twenties anymore, I guess that wasn't the first career-choice. So I guess the most pressing question would be: Why? Why become a priest so late in your life?” he took another sip of coffee, it had almost his preferred temperature.

A shadow fell over Castiel's face.  
“Straight to the point, huh?” he pressed his lips together until there was only a fine line left.  
“I don't want to be impolite, but that's a topic I don't quite like to talk about. At last not if I don't really know the person opposite me. Excuse me, but the line is quite short, I'll go grab myself a coffee now.” he stood up and went over to the counter.  
It wasn't uncommon that parishioners asked about his past. But he never talked about it. It just hurt too much.

Dean was a little startled. Did he say something wrong? Well, obviously he did. Castiel all but fled from him. He was now standing at the serving counter, waiting for his drink. He should apologize when Castiel was back.  
Castiel. That was kind of a mouthful. Maybe he could shorten that a little. Cassie maybe? Oh god, no. He once had a fling with a chick with that name.  
Cas? That had a ring to it. Short, concise, he liked it. Now he only needed approval of the owner of the name.

Castiel came back with one of those fancy looking drinks with lots of whipped cream. Dean gained two pounds just by looking at it.

“Listen, Cas, I can call you Cas, right? I'm sorry. I get now that was a ridiculously personal question that I shouldn't have asked. I'm sorry.” he gave Castiel the best version of puppy dog eyes he could manage. They were nothing against Sam's, but he wasn't there.

“Apology accepted, Dean. It's kind of a sensitive topic for me.” he took a sip of his drink and closed his eyes with pure indulgence.

“What are you even drinking?” Dean asked, eyeing Castiel's slightly green drink with disgust.

“It's a mint-chocolate-chip frappucchino. One of my few guilty pleasures. And actually the reason why I suggested this particular place.” he took another sip, obviously enjoying his drink.

“Whatever floats our boat. But since you were the one suggesting this little get-together, I guess you should be the one to start.” Dean said and took a large sip of his own coffee, now at perfect drinking temperature.

“Maybe you're right. Well. Like I already told you on Wednesday, I got the feeling you're a little lost on your way right now. And I was hoping, that with a little help and guiding, we might be able to get you on the right path for the future you want, however that might look like.” Castiel looked at him expectantly.

“Huh. To be fair, I also thought about _that_ a little. And I'm fairly sure I want to take the job at the health clinic. It's a nice salary, the working hours are fair, great benefits, and I can put my new degree into use.” Dean avoided looking at Castiel and looked out the window instead. People were rushing past, and traffic was as terrible as always.

“This sounds like a perfect opportunity” Castiel replied. “But you don't really seem happy to me. What's the problem?” he asked cautiously.

“Bobby” was everything Dean said.

“And who is Bobby?” Castiel further inquired.

“He's the closest thing I have to family. Apart from Sammy of course. But he pretty much raised us after our parents died. He taught me everything I know about cars, he built Baby with me, or rather rebuilt her, and he always had a job for me if I needed one. It's his garage I'm working at and he was actually planning on retiring soon. He wanted to leave the garage to me. But If I take the job at the clinic, I won't be able to take over the garage and Bobby has no one else. And since he's living over the garage selling it isn't quite an option either. So I'm a little torn between pursuing my dream and having my families back.” he took another huge sip of coffee, there was maybe a third of the huge cup left.

“I see. I understand the struggle you're in, Dean. But you should understand, that you're helping no one, not Bobby and surely not yourself, if you're always trying to make everyone else happy, but are deeply unhappy yourself. Just imagine yourself in 10 years, sitting in a small office somewhere in that garage, neck-deep in papers, doing the same stuff day in and day out. Does that sound like a happy Dean to you?” he asked and gave Dean a curious look.

“No. Not even remotely. I would most likely be miserable. I love cars, that's not it. But spending the rest of my life fixing them? Not really something to look forward to.” he was looking out of the window again, but this time unfocused, like he was trying to catch a glimpse of his future.

“And now imagine yourself in 10 years if you took the job in the clinic. What do you see now?” he took a spoonful of whipped cream and ate it with delight.

“I'm happy. I'm living in a small house, maybe my own little garden, a few flowers, I like flowers, some vegetables, nothing fancy, but something to tend to on the weekends. I have purpose helping others getting better.” he really liked that future.  
But could that really work out? Something always happened.

“Now, humor me, Dean. Which of these alternatives sounds more appealing to you? Sitting in a tiny office for the rest of your life, fixing cars, or sitting in a nice, office at the health clinic fixing people?” Castiel asked with a spark in his eyes. He already knew the answer.

Dean stayed silent. He knew too. If he actually wanted to be happy in the long run, he had to quit at the garage and pursue his own dreams. After all how is he supposed to help others getting happy again, if he isn't happy himself?

“I know what you're doing. And your damn good at it. But can I really do this to Bobby? Leave him hanging like that? He's supported me all my life, and I'd be ashamed if I left him hanging now that he needs me for a change.” he got a knot in his stomach just thinking about this. It was always making everyone else happy. Never himself. Dean sighed.

“This is really bothering you, isn't it? But did you ever talk to Bobby about it? Did you ever tell him, how you feel? That you'd rather help people than their cars? Do you really think he'd be mad at you for pursuing your dreams?” Castiel had a curious look in his eyes.

“If Bobby really is so close to you, don't you think he would like for you to be happy, too? He doesn't seem to me like the selfish type. Although I don't know him of course, but from what you told me about him so far, he seems like quite the emphatic person and not at all like someone who would throw purposefully throw rocks into other peoples paths. Or did I get that wrong?” He took one last sip from his drink and started eating the whipped cream spoon after spoon.

Dean didn't know what to say.  
Castiel might be right. He _did_ never talk to Bobby about his dreams. Sure, Bobby knew about College, so he must've had at least an idea that Dean didn't wanna stay a mechanic forever. Maybe he already made other plans. He should really talk to Bobby. Sooner rather than later.

“May I ask a rather personal question, Dean?” Castiel looked almost uncomfortable.

It took Dean a moment to respond, he was contemplating how to talk to Bobby.

“Huh? Uh, yeah, sure. Shoot” he scooted back in his seat, sitting more straight now.

“How did you start with your 'other job' as you called it? I can't imagine it's something you set up an ad on Craigslist for.” Castiels brow furrowed.

Dean laughed.

“Nah, I didn't put up an ad on Craigslist. It was more of a coincidence actually. I had a One-Night Stand one weekend and when I woke up the next morning the guy was gone and there were 250 bucks on the nightstand. Money was ever mentioned the evening before and at first I felt...kinda dirty. But then I thought about it and came to the conclusion that a lot of problems could be solved that way. I was having fun and financing my studies at the same time. I learned a few tricks and soon raised my prices, but a few regulars stuck with me.” Dean wanted to take another sip but his cup was empty.

“A few of those actually seemed sad when I told them I'd stop. But as you said, I have to decide what makes me happy, and although I really had fun, I have different priorities now. And as I said before: being a hooker and wanting a relationship doesn't really work out. Jealousy will always get in the way.” Dean was looking out of the window the entire time, but now snapped back into reality and looked at Cas, who seemed to be...pleased?

“I'm really glad to hear that. I'm also fairly sure, that sometimes you just think way too much. And from my own experience I can tell you, that that can become almost dangerous if your thoughts start going in circles. Overthinking can cloud your judgment immensely. So I'd like to ask you for something.” he puts his cup down on the table and sits on the front end of his chair, leaning forward towards Dean.

“Go home and think about what you told me about your two possible lives in 10 years and write them down. Think about how you want to be then. What do you look like, how do you feel, even how you dress yourself or how you walk down the street. Next, think about how you would feel like, if you were that person and also write that down. And finally, write down what you would have to do to become that person you're imagining. Write it all down. I don't want to read it, it's just for you. But maybe, one day, you'll stumble upon those pages and realize you actually become that very person. Wouldn't that be beautiful?” he sits back in his chair again, now with a huge smile on his face.

To be fair, what Cas just asked of Dean sounded ludicrous, but so did having coffee with a priest, and Dean had to admit, that it actually _did_ help in in some ways. He made some decisions he wouldn't have made on his own. Not he just had to go through with them.

“Yeah. That does sound beautiful. I'm just still having a hard time believing this could actually work out. But! I've decided I'll go talk to Bobby about the garage. The health clinic wants a decision by Wednesday, so I need to get my thoughts and shit together and man up. I'm still afraid Bobby will be disappointed in me for bailing on him, but I also think he'll understand why I'm doing so.” Dean had a sense of determination in him he hasn't felt since he decided to pursue a psychology degree.

“I almost want to say I'm proud of you, and I actually am a little. I don't think I can actually take any credit for your decision, but I like seeing you like this. And I'd like to stay in contact. I'm really curious about how this will turn out in the long run.” he had such a huge smile on his face, he got little wrinkles in the corners of his eyes.

“I'd like that.” Dean replied. “And you _can_ take at least a little credit. Without you I never would've let myself believe I can actually pull this off. But now I'm positive everything will turn out fine.” he fidgeted with his empty coffee cup.

“I should probably still go though. You gave me a homework remember. And maybe that's not even the worst base for my conversation with Bobby. If I have something I can show him toconvince him I have good reason to what I'm about to do, maybe it'll make it easier for him to let me go.”  
Deans thoughts drifted off to a brighter future than he could've ever imagine before. And he really liked it.

“Yeah, I'm positive I've done everything I can for now. But as I said, I'd really like to stay in contact. I'd be happy to get a text once in a while or maybe even a call sometimes?” he looked really hopeful.

This was one dedicated priest. Yeah, that had to be it. Determination. It had nothing to do with Dean as a person, it was just his general interest in the life of his 'sheep'. Priests still saw themselves as shepherds, right? Dean shouldn't start overthinking again, that hit right home, he really tended to do that a lot.

“This was really nice.” Dean told him. “Maybe we can do that again, sometimes.”

“I'd like that. Maybe once you've talked to Bobby? I'm quite curious what he'll say to your plans.” there was the smile again, that made Castiels eyes sparkle.

“Totally will do. But I got one last question.” Dean told Castiel sheepishly.

“What would that be?” Cas replied, still smiling.

“Can I text you if I have trouble with my homework?”

Now Castiel was full on laughing.

“I would be surprised if you don't have questions about your homework.” Castiel hat a hint of pink on his cheeks from laughing.

“So yeah, as I already told you back at the church, you can always text or call me. Unless I'm otherwise occupied, I'll always reply right away or take your call. I'm looking forward to your questions.”

And with that they both stood up from their respective seats and returned their cups  
to the counter.

“This was really nice” Dean said once more and held out his hand for Cas to shake.

Castiel took it almost reluctantly and gave it a tight squeeze while his gaze was lingering on Deans freckled face, maybe a few seconds longer than necessary.

“The pleasure was all mine.” Cas told Dean with a wink. “I'm looking forward to your call. Or text.”

Once again Dean felt Castiel following him with his eyes until he had left the café and turned around the corner to the parking lot.

He took out his phone and sent a short message to Castiel. “You can also text or call if you ever need someone to talk. D”


End file.
